Bettye LaVette

Yoshi's
Oakland, CA
Bettye LaVette, who joked about being “an overnight success that took 49 years,” is clearly in the zone. Her popularity is skyrocketing, she just released a CD covering British rock tunes, and she has been invited everywhere from late night TV to Obama’s inaugural celebration to the Kennedy Center Honors.  There is nothing better than seeing her live, where she puts on a bravura performance unrivaled by any of her peers, older or younger. Opening with a rockin’ R&B treatment of Lennon/McCartney’s “The Word,” LaVette bounds out of the starting gate like a thoroughbred. On “Choices” (recorded by George Jones), she takes the country hit and transforms it into a gut-wrenching anthem of regret. This is the power LaVette controls—taking a well-known song, filtering it through the deepest of soul and blues, and re-interpreting it, to become a stunning new creation.  Each gem in her set elicits a visceral emotion so deep its starts in your gut, then travels up to the heart before hitting your brain.

Ringo Starr/George Harrison’s simple “It Don’t Come Easy” is slowed down to a simmering boil and reeks of an edgy weariness. She delivers the lyrics of Steve Winwood/Jim Capaldi’s “No Time to Live” with the deepest remorse: “Something's happening to me day by day/My pebble on the beach is getting washed away/I've given everything that was mine to give/And now I turn around and find that there's no time.” Each word is carefully weighed, the emotion all too real and painful, the effect chilling. LaVette, having paid her dues and now reaping the rewards, is grateful for her newfound success, singing a song of resilience, "Close As I Get to Heaven.” About her foray into the world of British rock, she joked, “We had to rearrange some of the songs, which were written by 20-year-old men in England who were high, to be sung by a 65-year-old woman who is drunk.”

In a heartfelt tribute to the ailing Etta James, LaVette turns in one the greatest vocal performances I’ve had the joy of experiencing. On “Damn Your Eyes,” she reaches deep into the heartbreak of wanting a love that’s wrong,  but wanting it anyway, and spits out the final irony – “damn your eyes.” Those three words, repeated as a bittersweet condemnation, are enough to sear into the soul’s unyielding desire and the hell of love.

The Who’s “Love Reign O’er Me” was another rock gem re-imagined into a soul masterpiece even writer Pete Townshend couldn’t possibly have imagined. By the set’s end, I was emotionally exhausted, yet totally exhilarated. The electricity LaVette generated in the room was palpable and intoxicating.  She closed with an a cappella “I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got,” transforming Sinead O’Connor’s hit into a spiritual statement. LaVette need not covet what she doesn’t have, because she’s got what she needs. And if the exultation of her fans is any indication, she’s got plenty.

Steve Murray
Cabaret Scenes
July 21, 2011
www.cabaretscenes.org